


Drawing the Line

by Calico



Category: Queer as Folk (UK), Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calico/pseuds/Calico





	Drawing the Line

"And you live in Manchester," Ianto said, trying not to look too deeply into the man's eyes. He had a feeling he could be very, very persuasive.

"Yeah," Stuart said. He was Irish, and his words came out red-hot and lingering. Another damn Jones. "But after today," Stuart added, giving Ianto an appraising smirk, "I might just look into moving further West."

_Please don't_, Ianto thought. He'd never see Jack again. Trust the gayest rift breach ever - the appearance of a dozen oiled men in strapped sandals and little else, transplanted from a bathhouse in Ancient Greece - to collide with the most eligible tourist Ianto had ever seen.

Ianto _had_ been having a good day, before the deluge of gleaming Greek musclemen. Jack had stayed over last night - which had happened before, but this morning he'd driven Ianto into work rather than insisting they arrive separately like usual. It was nothing but it still felt like something.

Trust someone like this to turn up and spoil it.

"Keep still, please," Owen said patiently, focusing on his watch as his fingertips dug into Stuart's wrist, executing the post-rift-exposure physical checks with gratifying briskness.

Stuart rolled his eyes at Ianto. "Next thing I know he'll be getting out his _thermometer_," he murmured, and then gave Owen a deliberate smile. "I'm fine. In fact, I'm more than fine, I feel positively... energetic."

Ianto had a disquieting sense that Stuart could teach him things about his body that otherwise he'd never know. He plastered on a blandly enquiring expression and consulted his clipboard. "And is your visit business or..." He had to ask. It was on the sheet.

"Bit of both, now."

Ianto dutifully wrote that down, feeling Stuart's gaze on his face and trying not to squirm. Somehow, this guy had pegged him as available within 30 seconds of routine questioning. Locked on and started reeling him in.

Ianto realised he was praying that Jack wouldn't turn up before they sent Stuart on his way.

"And on a scale of one to seven," Owen said, shining a light into Stuart's eyes and then blinking when Stuart tilted his head back and parted his lips, eminently available. "Um," Owen said, and then grated out, "yes, _between one and seven_, how alarming has this visit to Cardiff been?"

Owen's policy, increasingly, was to administer lower retcon dosages. Ianto admired his efforts in the face of such intense distraction.

"Alarming?" Stuart drawled, raising an eyebrow. "I'd say zero."

"That wasn't out of the ordinary for you?" Ianto asked, before he could stop himself. They'd disentangled Stuart from something that definitely resembled an orgy.

Stuart grinned thoughtfully. "I won't say it's not been a pleasant surprise."

"Uh... come again?" Owen asked faintly. His colour was high.

"Re-enactors in Manchester tend towards the weird and beardy," Stuart shrugged, waving a hand. "But the Welsh? Well. Always good to have one's _preconceptions_ broken down, you know?"

Stuart looked meaningfully at Owen, then Ianto, then back to Owen. Fuck, Ianto thought stupidly. He means to have us both. And right now, he couldn't think of a single good reason to stop him--

"Alright," Jack sighed, in Ianto's earpiece, and Ianto jumped. _That_ was the reason. "That's the last of the Greeks dispatched. Did you see their arms? It was hard not to hop in the rift with them. Very hard."

"That really isn't necessary," Owen said tersely, and Ianto glanced at him in alarm - but no, Jack was only in _his_ ear, and Owen's attention was on Stuart, who was unbuttoning his shirt.

"Meet me round the back," Jack said, voice brimming with promise.

Ianto touched his earpiece, clearing his throat. "Not feasible, sir. I'm with a civilian. He's... we're almost done."

"Is he cute?"

"Uh, couldn't possibly say, sir," Ianto bit off, and Jack laughed.

"Now I'm curious. I'll be right there."

Ianto looked at Owen hurriedly. "Are we done?"

"Just about," Owen said - the first good news Ianto had heard all afternoon. Owen eyed Stuart sourly. "You're free to go. Sorry to disappoint," he added, almost inaudible.

Stuart ignored him, or didn't hear him; he was re-buttoning his shirt, watching Ianto with a measure of sly interest. "_Sir_?" he asked, leaning deliciously on the word, and Ianto shivered despite himself. "You boys military, then?"

"Special ops," Owen said, then hesitated when Stuart's gaze swung to him again. "Sort of."

"Government," Ianto said, and heard the door slam behind him.

Stuart's attention focused sharply behind his head.

Bugger, Ianto thought. Here it comes.

"_Hello_," Stuart drawled, fresh interest brightening his eyes.

Jack crossed the room in a striding swish of coat and stuck out his hand, smiling in that trademark way that Ianto dreaded. "Captain Jack Harkness."

"Stuart Alan Jones," Stuart replied, smiling steadily right back at him.

They were going to fuck, Ianto knew instantly. The space between them was loud with it. They were going to have endless, noisy, acrobatic sex, probably in the Hub or the SUV or some other place where Ianto would see the memories on Jack's face for weeks to come.

Possibly, they'd suggest he join them, and Ianto was immediately certain that he _would_, even though that was firmly against his rules for this thing with Jack, the charter he'd drawn up in his head but not yet dared broach with Jack in person.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes glinting. "And you've already met my boyfriend."

There was an infinitesimal pause.

"Boyfriend," Stuart repeated, nodding, his smile going closed-mouthed and wry, "right, of _course_." He glanced at Ianto's stunned expression and then stepped closer to Jack, murmuring, "I don't suppose..."

Jack shook his head.

"Damn. But...?" Stuart gave a sideways nod at Owen, raising an eyebrow.

Jack grinned. "Be my guest."

"Uh, wait, what?" Owen said.

Ianto ignored him; he was too busy mentally clearing his agenda for tonight. There was suddenly a great deal of noisy, acrobatic sex he needed to schedule in.


End file.
